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In The Pastures 
Of The Green 

And Other Poems 



BY 
HENRY M. HOPEWELL 




CHICAGO, 1915 






< # 



Copyrighted and Published 

by 

HOWARD D. BERRETT 

518 Wrightwood Avenue 

Chicago 



Publiihed June, IQI5 



F. HALL PRINTING COMPANY, CMICASO 

©CI.A406351 
JUN 17 1^15 



% 

CONTENTS 

PAGE 

In the Pastures of the Green 5 

Boyhood Days 9 

The Days That are Fleeting 15 

Carry Me Back . . . . - 18 

The White Mule 20 

Friends 25 

When the Summer Time is Over .... 27 

When the Leaves Begin to Fall 31 

Winter Time 33 

Leaves 35 

Work 36 

Jennie the Brave 38 

The Wise Mouse 41 

In the Ranges of the West 44 

Fellowship with Nature 46 

Nature's Wonder Scenes 48 

Things You May Have Missed 52 

Climbing 54 

The Columbia 56 

Grandfather's Farm 58 

Early Scenes 60 

I've Been Thinking 62 

Echoes of Springtime 65 

The Picnic 67 

The Dew 69 

[3] 



1 



CONTENTS * 

PAGE ' 

Mother 70 , 

Love 72 

Speak Kindly 74 ^ 

Good Bye 76 

Bill Watkins 78 

Memories . . . 84 *" 

I've Been to See the Old Home Place ... 86 

The Seasons 89 

Man's Destiny 91 

The Old Swimming Hole ...... 92 

There Is No Death 95 

Morning 96 ' 

The Dog 98 

Story of a Mouse 100 



[4] 



IN THE PASTURES OF THE GREEN 



IN THE PASTURES OF THE 
GREEN 

When the dew is on the meadow 

And the turtle dove is seen 
And the cattle all are feeding 

In the pastures of the green, 
When the air is soft and balmy 

With the coming of the spring 
And the sun is shining brightly 

With the growth of every thing, 
And the home folk are delighted 

For the cleaning has begun 
With the airing of the carpets 

In the early morning sun. 
And the house plants all are taken 

To the lawn in open air. 
Then the dew is on the meadow 

And the turtle dove is seen 
And the cattle all are feeding 

In the pastures of the green. 

[5] 



IN THE PASTURES OF THE GREEN 

When the hill sides all are colored 

With the verdure of the spring 
And the birds are busy looking 

For a place to nest and sing, 
When the frogs are quaintly croaking 

As they leap about the pool 
And the barefoot boy is whistling 

As he trudges off to school, 
When the apple trees are blooming 

With the blossoms pink and red 
And the honey bees are searching 

For a place to gather bread; 
O, there's pleasure in the fragrance 

Of the odor in the air. 
And the dew is on the meadow 

And the turtle dove is seen 
And the cattle all are feeding 

In the pastures of the green. 

When the time has come for outing 

And the holidays begin 
And the bluebird and the robin 

Find a place to nestle in, 

[6] 



IN THE PASTURES OF THE GREEN 

When the bumblebee is seeking 

For its food in early spring 
And the humming bird is chirping 

As it flits about on wing, 
When the meadow-lark is singing 

As it flies about the field 
And the farmer is surmising 

What the coming crop will yield, 
And the clover fields are charming 

With the fragrance everywhere, 
Then the dew is on the meadow 

And the turtle dove is seen 
And the cattle all are feeding 

In the pastures of the green. 

When the breeze is gently wafting 

Over meadows sweet to see 
And the reaper is preparing 

For the harvest yet to be, 
When the sparkling water's flowing 

Over pebbles in the brook 
And the lovers go a strolling 

In the shadows of the nook, 

[7] 



IN THE PASTURES OF THE GREEN 

When the landscape is a beauty 

And the forest scenes are fine 
And the day is bright and pleasant 

For the use of hook and line, 
When the floating clouds above us 

Are seen flitting in the sky, 
Then the dew is on the meadow 

And the turtle dove is seen 
And the cattle all are feeding 

In the pastures of the green. 



[8] 



BOYHOOD DAYS 



BOYHOOD DAYS 

'Twas many years ago in a thinly settled 
wood 

I lived when but a boy in a friendly neigh- 
borhood 

Down by the river bank, where the land- 
scape had a charm — 

I've blest the day so oft that I lived upon a 
farm. 

There many years I dwelt and I strolled 

along the streams 
And roamed about the woods in a pleasant 

day of dreams. 

The fishing time would come in the early part 

of spring 
And with my hook and line I would think 

myself a king. 

[9] 



BOYHOOD DAYS 



And later in the season I'd fish throughout 1 
the night, i 

And early in the morning I'd have a feast 
in sight. 

I'd stroll about the fields in the pleasant sum- 
mer time 

And listen to the birds with their music sweet 
and fine. 

The work upon the farm was a task I had 

to do, 
Nor was it ever easy, the country then was 

new. 

Nor did we have the tools that the farmers 
have to-day. 

With sickle and with scythe we would al- 
ways cut the hay. 

And when the corn was planted, with hands 
we'd drop the seeds ' 

And with the single shovel would keep it 
clear of weeds. 

[10] 



BOYHOOD DAYS 



The woods were full of berries, we'd gather 

them to can, 
In early days of livmg we always had to plan. 

When summer time had gone and the autumn 

would appear 
'Twas fun to gather nuts when the leaves 

were brown and sear. 

The hickory nuts were many, great quantities 
were found, 

They'd fallen from the trees and lay scat- 
tered on the ground. 

And hazel nuts were gathered when first the 

frost had come, 
The husks would quickly wither, we'd hull 

them one by one. 

In winter time I'd hunt where the rabbits 

come and go, 
I'd chase them through the woods and shoot 

them in the snow. 

[II] 



BOYHOOD DAYS 



I had a yoke of calves, and I'd hitch them 1 

to a sleigh, 
I'd take the girls out riding upon a wintry 

day. 



The sport was fine as could be, the girls 

would always go, 
I seldom ever went but I spilled them in the 

snow. 

I went to school in winter a portion of the 

time, 
I'd stay away to work when the weather 

would be fine. 

The house was built of logs in the good old- 
fashioned way, 

The boys would gather fuel to warm it 
through the day. 

I made my bow and arrows, I'd shoot at 

birds on wing. 
But ne'er do I remember of hitting anything. 

[12] 



i 



BOYHOOD DAYS 



I made my little wagon and things with which 

to play, 
None other was more happy, nor any one 

to-day. 

My mother carded wool and she spun it into 

thread, 
She dyed it with the colors of black and blue 

and red; 

She wove it into cloth in the summer time 

and fall, 
And made it into garments for children of 

us all. 

She'd knit our socks and mits in the evening 

by the fire. 
She'd all the work she cared for or woman 

should desire. 

The house work then was simple and car- 
pets were but few, 

I also think that living was simple, good and 
true. 

[13] 



BOYHOOD DAYS 



Down by the river bank where the land- 
scape had a charm, 

I've blest the day so oft that I lived upon 
a farm. 



[14] 



THE DAYS THAT ARE FLEETING 



THE DAYS THAT ARE FLEETING 

The days that are fleeting for man on the 

earth 
Give pleasure and sorrow from time of his 

birth; 
He Hves and he hopes, though a care and a 

slave 
From childhood through life till he reaches 

the grave. 

The high and the low, and the base and the 

just, 
Together they lie where they molder in dust; 
The youth in his strength and the prime of 

his day 
Has joined in the throng that are sleeping 

in clay. 

The mother that suckled the babe at her 
breast 

[15] 



THE DAYS THAT ARE FLEETING 

And taught to her children the ways of the ' 

blest 
Has fallen asleep in the arms of her God 
And taken her place in the dust of the sod. 

The father who's striven with patience and 

will 
To care for the mother and children, is still; 
He's gone to his rest and his spirit has fled, 
He sleeps in the grave with the numberless 

dead. 

The rich and the poor and the young and 

the old 
Have gone to their sleep where they lie in 

the fold. 
There are millions of souls that have gone 

on their way 
To lands that are thought to be brighter than 

day. 

So man was created and placed on the earth, 
With care and with burden soon after his 
birth; 

[i6] 



THE DAYS THAT ARE FLEETING 

He lives and he hopes, though a care and a 

slave 
From time of his birth till he lies in the 

grave. 



[17] 



CARRY ME BACK 



CARRY ME BACK 

Carry me back to the scenes of my childhood, 
Carry me back to my home when a boy; 

There just to roam in the dense of the wild- 
wood, 
There to live over the days of my joy. 

Thoughts of my childhood about me still 
flowing, 
Vivid impressions grow stronger with 
time ; 
Live as I may in the years that are going, 
Fond recollections will always be mine. 

Give me the hopes of my youth that were 
glowing, 
Take me away from the turmoil and strife; 
Carry me back again just to be growing 
Fondly surmising the fruits of a life. 
[i8] 



CARRY ME BACK 



Resting, O resting, serenely reclining. 
Viewing the world with the least bit of 
care, 

Pleasantly dreaming, the future divining, 
While I would sit in the old rocking chair. 

Give me, O give me, my youth to live over! 

Back to my childhood allow me to fly ! 
When in the fields I would roam through the 
clover, 

Qiasing the butterfly into the sky. 

Give me, O give me, the sweetness of slum-^ 
ber! 
Cuddled and tucked away snugly in bed; 
Mother's caresses I never could number, 
Countless were they on my wee sleepy 
head. 

Carry me back to my childhood's adorning. 
Carry me back to my youth and my play; 

Carry me back to my life's early morning, 
Carry me back and allow me to stay. 



19] 



THE WHITE MULE 



THE WHITE MULE 

I thought the world peculiar, when I taught ^ 

the country school, 
The boys and girls were brawny, and the 

flogging was the rule. 

I had a mule I'd ride to school, 'twas white as ^ 

driven snow, 
'Twas down in old Missouri, in the days of 

long ago. 

He had a reputation, known throughout the . 

neighborhood. 
He'd never kick nor worry me, was always 

kind and good. 

The children climbed upon his back, and 

they would stroke his curls, -^ 

He was a country favorite with all the boys i 

and girls. } 

[30] 



THE WHITE MULE 



This mule would always take me seven miles 

and back each day; 
I lived at home with mother and I had no 

board to pay. 

Each morning at the break of day, while 

stars were yet aglow, 
I'd mount the old white mule, and on the 

road to school I'd go. 

'Twas customary then, along about the 

Christmas time, 
For schools to lock the teacher out, and make 

him treat them fine 

To feast of fruit and candy, ere the door 

should ope again; 
'Twas down in old Missouri, in the winter 

time and rain. 

Three days they kept me out, and in the damp 

and chilly air. 
The old white mule stayed by me, took me 

home and back with care. 

[21] 



THE WHITE MULE 



The third day in the morning, when I rode 

up to the door, 
'Twas opened wide before me, mid a whoop 

and wild uproar. 

They all came out to greet me, with a noose 

at end of rope ; 
They tried to lariat me, and to take me down 

the slope 

To stream of sparkling water, there to duck 

me in the pool. 
The old white mule, a friend of mine, then 

took me from the school. 

He seemed to know the reason, for he looked 

up to the sky. 
He pricked his ears and raised his head, and 

took me on the fly. 

He took me down the road; at end of lane 

and timber street. 
Looked back to view the scene, then started 

on in full retreat. 

[22] 



THE WHITE MULE 



We went so fast my hat dropped off, nor did 

I stop for it, 
We kept on going o'er the bumps, as fast as 

we could hit. 

Cy McElvane was with me, and a bodyguard 

was he. 
He rode a fine bay mare along, beside the 

mule with me. 

He was a bold and stalwart man, heM *'lick 

them all" he said. 
But when the boys came after me, he rode 

away instead. 

Next morning I was back, and everything 

was pleasant now. 
The board had taken up the deal, and settled 

all the row. 

The school was fine from that time on, I 

never saw the beat ! 
Upon the last day of the school, I gave them 

all a treat. 

[23] 



THE WHITE MULE 



The old white mule had saved the day, for 

he was true and bold, 
I never should have sold him, for his total 

weight in gold. 



[24] 



FRIENDS 



FRIENDS 

The friends that are true and steadfast, that 

stand the test through life, 
Are those that are made in youth's time, ere 

come the days of strife. 

The friendships and acquaintances thus form 

a lasting tie, 
They're kindled with the flames of love that 

never, never die. 

The memories of childhood's days that lin- 
ger for all time 

Are dearest of all memories, though sum- 
mit's height we climb. 

The time allotted us on earth in this short 

span of life 
Is fraught with hardships for us here in all 

our earthly strife. 

[25] 



FRIENDS 



But friends we need and friends we'll have 

if we will strive and plan 
To lighten cares of all who live, and help our 

fellow man. 



[26] 



WHEN THE SUMMER TIME IS OVER 



WHEN THE SUMMER TIME IS 
OVER 

When the frost is on the meadow 

And the leaves begin to rattle, 
And the corn is in the crib 

To feed the sheep and cattle; 
When you feel the cooling breeze 

That breaks the summer's drouth, 
And watch the flight of birds 

As they journey to the South, 
And when the moaning winds 

Around your home place sigh, 
And your fuel bin is full 

To keep you warm and dry. 
It's then a fellow 'prec'ates 

The long hard summer's work ; 
When the frost is on the meadow 

And the leaves begin to rattle, 
And the corn is in the crib 

To feed the sheep and cattle. 

[27] 



WHEN THE SUMMER TIME IS OVER 

When the wheat is cut and threshed. 

And the bins are full of grain, 
And the plowing all is over, 

And the seeding done again, 
When the apples all are picked 

And potatoes, too, are dug, 
And the other garden truck 

Is stowed away all snug; 
When the boys and girls go nutting. 

And they gather from the trees 
A supply of goodly picking 

For their winter evening bees; 
When the baseball season's over 

And the football takes its place, 
Then the frost is on the meadow, 

And the leaves begin to rattle. 
And the corn is in the crib 

To feed the sheep and cattle. 

When the landscape all is colored 
With hues of brown and yellow. 

And the squirrel snugly stores 
His rations in his cellar, 

[28] 



WHEN THE SUMMER TIME IS OVER 

And the dry and husky leaves 

Have fallen thick in heaps, 
And the swine all follow quickly 

For a place to lie and sleep; 
And the hauling all is done, 

And the mow is full of hay. 
And when the stock is sheltered 

From a cold and stormy day; 
Oh ! it's then you feel secure 

In your cozy, happy home. 
When the frost is on the meadow 

And the leaves begin to rattle 
And the corn is in the crib 

To feed the sheep and cattle. 

The atmosphere is bracing 

As you sniff the morning air, 
For the torrid summer's over 

With rejoicing everywhere; 
We miss the summer dews 

And the music of the bees, 
And the singing of the birds 

As they fly among the trees, 

[29] 



WHEN THE SUMMER TIME IS OVER 

But the air is cool and crisp 

And your step is quick and spry, 
And you feel like being thankful 

For the good things all laid by. 
Yes, the summer time is over 

And the winter's coming on. 
When the frost is on the meadow 

And the leaves begin to rattle, 
And the corn is in the crib 

To feed the sheep and cattle. 



[30] 



WHEN THE LEAVES BEGIN TO FALL 



WHEN THE LEAVES BEGIN TO 
FALL 

There is sadness in the forest 

When the leaves begin to fall; 

There is sadness in the music 

When the winds begin to call; 

And it's rustle and it's bustle 

And it's hustle all the time, 

For the trees have shed their clothing 

And the fall is on decline; 

And the trees are seeming lonely 

From the losing of their green, 

And the v^inds are moaning vv^eirdly 

As they whistle by unseen; 

And the squirrels pranks are playing 

As they skip from tree to tree, 

And they chatter and they clatter 

As they crack their nuts in glee; 

And the air is cool and bracing 

In the early morning dawn, 

[31] 



WHEN THE LEAVES BEGIN TO FALL 

With the sparkle of the crystal -^ 

Of the frost upon the lawn; 

And the roads are strewn with teaming 

In the hauling of the grain, 

And the farmer is rejoicing 

In his flowing wealth and gain. i 

There's a sadness in the forest, 

For the winter time is near, 

And the snowing and the blowing 

And the freezing will be here. 

Let us then prepare for winter 

While the weather's good and fine; 

For the trees have shed their clothinjr 

And the fall is on decline. ^ 



[32] 



WINTER TIME 



WINTER TIME 

When the wind is fiercely blowing 

Hard against your window pane, 
And you sit inside and listen 

To the spatter of the rain; 
When the pasture fields are hidden 

From their wonted coats of green, 
And the stock is sheltered warmly 

From the blast and stormy scene; 
When the day is cold and dreary 

And the clouds are hanging low, 
And the ground with white is covered 

With the crystal flakes of snow; 
When the boys and girls are coasting 

Down the sloping of the side. 
With their glee and joyful shouting 

As they onward rush and glide; 
When the streams and lakes are frozen 

And the ice is thick and fine, 
And the boys and girls are skating 

And they have a jolly time; 

[33] 



WINTER TIME 



When the winter storms are raging 

And they howl and rave and roar, 
And the blizzard winds are striving 

Hard to enter at your door; 
When you sit with wife and children 

In your home that's warm and neat, 
And you gather at the table 

Where you talk and jest and eat; 
O it's then you're feeling grateful 

To the God who reigns above, 
For the good and many blessings 

In the home you dearly love; 
And it's then you've peaceful slumber, 

You are safe from winter's harm; 
Let it snow and rain and thunder. 

Winter's storms have no alarm. 
In your cozy home of plenty 

You are happy and content. 
For you worked in clement weather 

And no idle moments spent. 
None should envy, or begrudge you 

All your wealth and honest gain. 
For you worked in clement weather 

And lay by in storm and rain. 

[34] 



LEAVES 



LEAVES 

'Tis autumn of year and the leaves have all 

fallen, 
For days they've been flitting and going 

astray ; 
They rustle and hurry, in open they scurry, 
And bustle and sputter and flutter away. 

They drift into corners and lie in the hol- 
lows. 

They're red and they're yellow and orange 
and brown; 

They lie all around and they gather and 
scatter. 

And cover the lawn like feathery down. 

The leaves are all drifting and shifting and 

sifting — 
How sadly they sing for a day and a day! 
They lie in the damp and in snows of the 

winter; 
In heat of the sun of the spring they decay. 

[35] 



WORK 



WORK 

It's not what you have done, my brother, 
Nor what you are going to do; 

It's what you are doing now, brother, 
That counts in the struggle for you. 

It's the will and the grit, young fellow, 

It's work that is honestly done 
That the world to-day is in need of. 

So hump yourself to it, my son. 

If you'd win in the game, my brother. 
When others about you would fail. 

Then to-day start in on your journey 
And go straight ahead on the trail. 

It is now you should start, my brother, 
And do what you can on the way; 

There is plenty of work, my brother, 
And workers are needed to-day. 

[36] 



WORK 



There's no room in the world for idlers, 
There's room at the top if you work; 

There's no room on the round for others, 
No room in the world for the shirk. 

Are you waiting for something, brother, 

A job that is easy to do? 
If you're waiting for this, my brother, 

'Twill be a long waiting for you. 

There is only one way, my brother. 
There's only one road I should guess; 

It's the road where you toil, my brother. 
The only one road to success. 

There's a field that is open, brother, 
The one that is calling for you; 

There is room at the top, my brother, 
Go climbing and prove it is true. 



[37] 



JENNIE, THE BRAVE 



JENNIE, THE BRAVE 

The night was dark and foreboding, 
The stars were hidden from sight; 

With roar and rumble of thunder 
Came flash of Hghtning that night. 

'Twas Jennie Smith and her mother. 
Who Hved alone in the glen, 

Their cottage faced on the river. 
For years 'twas shelter for them. 

A rain was falling in torrents, 
A cloud had burst in the sky; 

The stream was fearfully swollen. 
The bridge was reeling near by. 

When, in a moment stood Jennie, 
With lantern swung at her side ; 

The train that soon would be coming 
Was doomed to go with the tide. 

[38] 



JENNIE, THE BRAVE 



She sprang and quickly was scaling 
In dark and storm of the night; 

On hands and knees she was crawling, 
The lantern, only, her light. 

Thus she, undaunted and conscious, 
And with a sigh and a tear. 

Had nerved herself for the effort. 
For all depended on her. 

To save the lives of the people, 
Her only thought at the time. 

And thinking not of her danger. 
She reached the end of her climb. 

With ear at rail she would listen. 
For those aboard she must save; 

So, like a deer that was fleeing, 
She sped, and signal she gave. 

She swung the light of the lantern 
Across the track as she'd wave; 

The engineer at the throttle 

Slowed down for Jennie, the brave. 

[39l 



JENNIE, THE BRAVE 



She saved from wreck most appalling, 
That night in storm and the rain, 

All those who'd taken their passage 
On board the fast moving train. 

A purse was raised for the brave one, 
She spurned the gold as her right, 

For she'd done nothing to warrant 
A gift from people that night. 

But all she cared for and wanted, 

Appreciation she'd won; 
She'd saved the lives of the people — 

Her duty, only, she'd done. 



[40] 



THE WISE MOUSE 



THE WISE MOUSE 

One morning in June, 
The fourth, I should say, 
To canyon we went 
To fish for the day. 
A warehouse was found, 
'Twas dirty as sin, 
Permission had we 
To enter therein. 
The party, composed 
Of Reeves and his frau, 
Two daughters and son 
And I, with a vow 
Determined to fish 
For trout in the stream; 
We made a good catch 
That day it would seem. 
A dozen or more 
I fried of the fish; 
'Tis useless to say 
We relished the dish. 

[41] 



THE WISE MOUSE 



Our table was made 
Of boxes and brick; 
We ate and we ate 
With fingers and stick. 
While eating there came 
A snake and a mouse, 
And racing were they 
Across the warehouse. 
The snake tried to catch 
The mouse at a dash; 
Across the warehouse 
It ran like a flash. 
The studding was reached, 
And fast as it could 
The mouse scampered up 
This studding of wood. 
The snake on its trail 
Discovered the mouse 
Was planning to reach 
The top of the house. 
So, climbing it went 
Above the main door. 
When suddenly fell 
The mouse to the floor. 

[42] 



THE WISE MOUSE 



It lay on its back 
And seemingly said, 
*'Now, just pass me up, 
I'm perfectly dead." 
The snake came again 
And saw the mouse lay 
A-flat of its back, 
So, passed on its way. 
A snake will not eat 
A thing that is dead, 
It must be alive 
And moving instead. 
All this was a sham 
On part of the mouse; 
The snake shambled off 
To end of the house. 
No sooner than done. 
No sooner than said. 
The mouse ran away 
And scampered to bed. 



[43] 



IN THE RANGES OF THE WEST 



IN THE RANGES OF THE WEST 

Where the sunlit sky is azure 

In the ranges of the West, 
And the air is crisp and bracing 

In the shadows of the crest; 
Where the bold and sturdy mountains 

With their snowy caps are seen, 
And their sloping sides are swollen 

With the grandeur of the green, 
And the cataracts are splashing 

Over boulders on their way. 
Mid the sighing of the forest 

With its greetings of a lay; 
Where the earth is thickly covered 

With the moss that's grown for years, 
And there's seeping and there's weeping 

From its grime and slimy tears ; 
Where the rocks are simply dangling 

From the cliff that bends above, 
And the eagles there are soaring 

To protect their young and love; 

[44] 



IN THE RANGES OF THE WEST 

Where the bears, both black and grizzly, 

In a sullen, angry mood. 
Noted as they are for shyness, 

Venture forth in search of food; 
Where the mountain goats are climbing 

Up the rocky cliff and steep, 
And are searching for their feeding 

As they skip and jump and leap; 
Where the waters go a-plunging 

In their madness and their roar 
Through the dark and narrow passes, 

Plunging there forever more ; 
Mid their turbulence and wending, 

Wild with ecstasy and glee. 
Always sparkling and descending. 

Rushing onward to the sea; 
This is where I stroll and ramble, 

Drinking in the mountain air; 
And I eat and sleep and wander 

In the beauty everywhere. 



[45] 



FELLOWSHIP WITH NATURE 



FELLOWSHIP WITH NATURE 

The flowers, the trees, the leaves, the rocks, 

the lake. 
The ocean, flowing stream, the waterfall. 
The brook, the beasts of field, the fowls of 

air. 
All speak to man in tones of fellowship 
And love; and thoughts sublime are brought 

forth where 
All nature holds communion with mankind. 
Man need not lonely be where nature speaks 
To him of beauties in the forest haunts. 
The highest type of thought there is in man, 
Comes forth, resplendent, from the hill and 

dale. 
As, when in full companionship he talks 
And there communes with woods and stones 

and streams; 
Hears birds that sing, sees squirrels gambol in 
The trees, and chipmunks dart to their abodes ; 

[46] 



FELLOWSHIP WITH NATURE 

And breathes, inhales the sweet perfumes of 

woods. 
The sky, the setting sun, the air we breathe. 
The changing seasons all give evidence 
To man of plan divine in nature's work. 
Through space, illimitable, infinite, 
The stars and sun give light by night and day 
For man to glorify the works of Him 
Who gave the world and clothed with beauty it 
For habitation, all for his delight. 
Rejoice, then, live obedient to Him, 
And blest is he who heeds His wondrous plan. 



[47] 



NATURE'S WONDER SCENES 



NATURE'S WONDER SCENES ' 

The road winds down a gulch in a zigzag on i" 
its way, 

It leads through forest wilds where the rip- 
pling waters play. 

The tumbling, rumbling, plunging and leaping 

waterway 
Comes splashing down the stream in a mist 

of foaming spray. 

The whirlpool and the boulder lie 'neath the 

sunlight's gleam, 
The jagged rocks are bending above the 

swirling stream. 

The waterfall's a wonder, it sparkles in the 

air. 
It's pouring o'er the prec'pice in mystic beauty 

rare. 

[48] 



NATURE'S WONDER SCENES 

There are glaciers in the Cascades and snow 

peaks in the sky. 
There are lakes of cold blue water upon the 

mountains high. 

In mountains of the Selkirks are wondrous 

fields of snow, 
They feed the raging streams in their onward 

rush and flow. 

The glacier fields are wonders, from them the 

waters run, 
For aeons they have tarried beneath the glare 

of sun. 

The Southland has its canyon, the Colorado's 

Grand, 
'Twould seem that it had opened to swallow 

up the land. 

With scenic walls of grandeur and the raging 

water flow 
The Colorado's winding six thousand feet 

below. 

[49] 



NATURE'S WONDER SCENES 

I stand upon the brink of the greatest wonder ' 

scene 
And view, in admiration, the picture on the 

screen. 

The terraced walls of splendor, in crimson, f 

pink and gray. 
Two hundred miles are gleaming along the 

waterway. 

The Yellowstone's a wonder with nature's 

pleasing thrills, 
There are rugged scenes of grandeur mid 

God's eternal hills. 

The geysers play to hundreds of tourists 

through the day. 
They spout in all their splendor with gleaming 

beauty spray. 

The world should know the grandeur of rug- 
ged mountain wilds. 

For 'tis the place where heaven, with nature, 
ever smiles. 

[50] 



\ 

* NATURE'S WONDER SCENES 

Then would I urge the toiler, the weary and 

* the worn 

To bask in wonder scenes, ere they pass unto 
h their bourn. 



[51: 



THINGS YOU MAY HAVE MISSED 



THINGS YOU MAY HAVE MISSED 

Have you ever seen the splendor 

Of the rising of the sun 
And the gleaming and the beaming 

When the morning has begun? 

Have you ever seen the woodland 
When the snows begin to fall 

And the white flakes gather gently 
Over woods and hills and all? 

Have you ever chased the rabbits 
Where the snows have fallen deep 

O'er the hills and in the hollows, 
Round them up like flocks of sheep ? 

Have you ever stopped to listen 

To a hooting owl, with fright. 
Saying, "Who, who, who, who are you 
Out so late this dreary night?" 

[52] 



THINGS YOU MAY HAVE MISSED 

Have you ever gone a-fishing 

On a bright and sunny day 
Up into the rugged mountains 

Where the rippHng waters play? 

Have you ever seen the ocean 
With its great and swelling crest 

And the ships of commerce floating 
From the East and from the West? 

Have you ever seen the grandeur 

Of the setting of the sun 
When the streams of light are golden 

And the work of day is done? 

If you never have been seeing 

Things like these throughout your life 

Then you've missed the half of living 
In this busy world of strife. 



[53] 



CLIMBING 



CLIMBING 

I've been climbing up the mountain, 
And its peaks are wondrous high; 

I've been climbing up its pathway, 
Climbing up into the sky. 

Up and up the mountain higher, 
Step by step I wend my way; 

I have reached unto the summit, 
Where I ramble all the day. 

Up above the clouds I'm strolling. 
Where the sun is bright and fair, 

And the rain below is sending 

Freshness through the mountain air. 

Up above the forest limit 

Rocks are steeples in the sky. 

High and higher I have rambled. 
Where the eagles never fly. 

[54] 



CLIMBING 



Standing, now, upon the summit, 
'Midst the handiwork of God, 

Awe-inspiring is the stillness 
On the height that I have trod. 

Still admiring, still divining, 

Can there be a thing more grand 

Than the mountain scene I'm viewing 
From the summit where I stand? 



[55] 



THE COLUMBIA 



THE COLUMBIA 

A thousand miles through gorge and plain 

The mighty boulders stand, 
They check Columbia's wild career 

While flowing swift and grand. 

From glaciers in the northern clime, 
From melting snow peaks grand, 

Come waters roaring on their way 
Along Columbia's strand. 

The dancing, prancing, sparkling flow 

Within the sunlight's gleam. 
Is playing to the forest scenes 

Adown the mountain stream. 

The waters flow so swift and great 
Through mountain glade and lea. 

They pass along Columbia's strand 
While moving to the sea. 

[S6] 



THE COLUMBIA 



The plunging, tumbling, foaming stream 
Goes winding through the land, 

Forever wending on its way 
Along Columbia's strand. 

All hail Columbia's mighty flow 
From mountain peak and grand, 

It leaps and flows and pours and roars 
Along the shifting sand. 

Down by the sea it empties wide, 

It heaves a bar of sand. 
It pours into the deep blue sea 

From off Columbia's strand. 



[57] 



GRANDFATHER'S FARM 



GRANDFATHER'S FARM 

My grandfather's farm in the valley, 
It lies by the little old stream; 

The spring from the hill is still flowing, 
And sparkles in sun and the gleam. 

My grandfather's farm in the woodland, 
O many's the time there in June, 

O'er hills and the hollows and meadows, 
I've wandered along the Raccoon. 

'Twas there in my childhood I wandered, 
In fancy I roam through the scene; 

I roam in the midst of the wildwood. 
In fields that are fragrant and green. 

I'd stroll in the shade of the orchard, 
I'd stroll, when a child in my dream, 

Along where the bees gathered honey 
In meadows near by the old stream. 

[58] 



GRANDFATHER'S FARM 



My grandfather's farm in the valley, 
How oft have I romped there in glee ; 

The grass, the clover, the orchard, 
Were ever so charming to me. 

The beech tree, the sugar, the willow 
Are part of my Hfe's early charm; 

They carry me back to my childhood 
When grandfather lived on the farm. 

My grandfather's gone from the valley. 
There never again will he tread ; 

My grandfather's gone now forever; 
He sleeps in the vale of the dead. 



[59] 



EARLY SCENES 



EARLY SCENES 

Among the recollections 

That oft I now recall 
The early scenes of childhood 

Are dearest of them all. 
There was a dear old playground 

Near by my boyhood home, 
'Twas in a grand old forest 

Where oft within I'd roam. 

The spring time seemed the fairest 

When leaves were forming new 
Throughout the dear old forest 

With sunbeams peeping through. 
The playful, dancing sunbeams, 

I've watched them by the hour 
While playing on the bluegrass 

Beneath the leafy bower. 

'Twas there that squirrels builded 
Their nests high in the trees 

[60] 



EARLY SCENES 



Within the leafy branches 
That wafted to the breeze. 

'Twas there the birds sang sweetest 
In spring time of the year. 

And in the leaves they nestled 
Without molest or fear. 

The odor from the plant life 

Would scent the woodland scene, 
The dearest haunts of youth time 

Were in the forest green. 
The forest scenes are brightest, 

The brightest I recall — 
Of early scenes of childhood 

They're dearest of them all. 



[6i: 



I'VE BEEN THINKING 



I'VE BEEN THINKING 

I've been thinking of the spring time 
When the sky is clear and blue, 

And of strolling on the hillside 
When I've nothing else to do. 

I've been thinking of the spring time 
When the world is bright and fair, 

Of the budding of the plant life 
With its beauty everywhere. 

I've been thinking of the sunshine 
And the blade of grass that grows, 

Of the coming of the showers 
And the blooming of the rose. 

I've been thinking of the open 

Where the pasture fields are green, 

And the bluebells are in blossom 
And the violets are seen. 

[62] 



I'VE BEEN THINKING 



I've been thinking of the country 
Where the winding roads are fine, 

And the strolling is delightful 
In the spring and summer time. 

I've been thinking of the country, 
Of the land the farmer tills, 

And the lowing of the cattle 
That are feeding on the hills. 

I've been thinking of an outing, 
Just to lounge about awhile 

Where the greeting is informal 
And I'm welcomed with a smile. 

I've been thinking of the country, 
Of the farmer and his wife, 

Where they live and rear their children 
In the frugal ways of life. 

I've been thinking, simply thinking. 
Of the way the farmers live, 

And the blessings that await them 
For the labor that they give. 

[63] 



I'VE BEEN THINKING 



I've been thinking, simply thinking, 
That the simple life is best 

When I stroll about the country, 
Strolling, simply as a guest. 



[64] 



ECHOES OF SPRINGTIME 



ECHOES OF SPRINGTIME 

Over the woodland dense and wild, 

Over the hill tops bold, 
Through the lowland and the dale 

Charms of the woods are told. 

Over the landscape bright and fair, 

Over the verdure green, 
With the sunshine and the rain 

Signs of the spring are seen. 

Over the glare of mountain top, 

Under the heat of sun. 
From the melting of the snow 

Streams through the gorges run. 

Down in the chasms dark and deep, 

Over the rocks below, 
Plunging through the narrow pass 

Onward the waters flow. 

[65] 



ECHOES OF SPRINGTIME 



Splashing and foaming as they go, 

Silvery sparkles gleam, 
Playing in the bracing air 

Over the frothing stream. 

Over the meadows sweet and clean, 

Skipping about in May, 
Lambs are playing on the green 

All of the balmy day. 

Out by the gently flowing stream, 
Out with the line and pole, 

Barefoot lads are on their way 
Down to the fishing hole. 

Under the spreading maple bough 
Where there is rest for me, 

I am lounging in the breeze 
Under the leafy tree. 



[66] 



THE PICNIC 



THE PICNIC 

Down beneath the willow tree 
On the velvet carpet green 

Where the rippling waters flow 
Boys and girls are seen^ 

On a clean and grassy plot 
In the shade for you and me 

Tablecloths are spread about 
Underneath the tree. 

Laden well with food to eat 
With the best there is around. 

Gather we at noonday lunch 
Seated on the ground. 

There we eat most heartily 
In the shade of willow tree; 

In the balmy air perfume 
Eat we joyfully. 

[67] 



THE PICNIC 



On the glassy lake so fine 
In the boats we row and glide, 

Singing as we come and go 
On its bosom wide. 

Up within the tree top tall 

Where the birds are wont to sing, 

There they skip from bough to bough 
Happy in the spring. 

Where the tender grass is grown 
And the dew is gathering 

We are lounging on the green 
In the early spring. 



[68] 



THE DEW 



THE DEW 

The dew, the dew, the beautiful dew, 
It comes at the close of the day; 

Refreshing, gives vigor and life 
To plants that wither away. 

The dew, the dew, the beautiful dew, 
It gathers so gentle and sweet ; 

It sparkles and glitters and smiles. 
Retards and tempers the heat. 

All radiant the sun in the eve. 
The sky in the morning is blue; 

The flowers that ope in the night. 
In morning, glisten with dew. 

The dew, the dew, the heavenly dew, 
It comes in the stillness of night; 

It touches and tenderly soothes, 
Until the breaking of light. 

[69] 



MOTHER 



MOTHER 

Are you weeping now, my mother? 

Have I disappointed you? 
I have often heard you praying 

That I might be good and true. 

I have wandered far, dear mother, 
From the straight and narrow way; 

Yet, I'm thinking always of you 
And the way you'd often pray. 

Thave traveled far, dear mother, 
I have sailed the wintry sea; 

And the world is hard and cruel. 
It has often seemed to me. 

I could ne'er forget you, mother, 
Though I wandered far away, 

And the blessings that you gave me 
Seemed to follow day by day. 

[70] 



MOTHER 



Would I were as you would have me, 
Pure as gold and true as steel, 

For I know that you are praying 
As you did when I would kneel. 

I remember when you taught me 

In my Httle trundle bed, 
How to ask to be forgiven 

For the things that I had said. 

I remember that you told me 
God was good and ever near, 

That He*d promised all the children 
If they prayed that He would hear. 

Do not weep for me, dear mother, 
Let me see your smile, instead, 

As I did when I was near you 
In my little trundle bed. 



[71] 



LOVE 



LOVE 

I love to sit by the flowing stream 

And watch the leaves go by; 
I love to see the fleeting clouds 

As they flit across the sky. 
I love to sit by the flowing stream, 

Beneath the willow tree, 
And listen to the birds that sing 

As they fly about in glee. 

I love to stand on the mountain top 

Amid the snowy peaks, 
And listen to the wondrous voice 

Of the living God that speaks. 
I love to stroll up the mountain side 

And watch the sunlight's gleam; 
I love the dear old hill and dale 

As I do the flowing stream. 

I love to sit by the garden gate 
And watch the bud that grows, 

[72] 



LOVE 



I love to view the garden scene 
Where I scent the blooming rose. 

I love to sit by the cradle side 
And watch the babe that sleeps, 

I love to watch the mother's love 
And the one who loves and weeps. 

I love to sit by the surging sea 

Where breakers come and go, 
I love to watch the swelling crest 

Where the tide doth ebb and flow. 
I love to think of the love that's true 

And fresh as morning dew ; 
I love to think that God is love 

And the love that's always true. 



I7i] 



SPEAK KINDLY 



SPEAK KINDLY 

Why should you speak unkindly 

Of foes, or any one? 
Why should you judge your fellows 

For things they've never done? 
Speak only good of others 

When speaking to a friend; 
You may not be much better 

Than gossip that you send. 

The world is full of beauty, 

You need not see the bad; 
Just hold your tongue, my brother, 

And don't make others sad. 
The words that you have spoken, 

Though even in a jest. 
May pierce the heart, in sorrow. 

Until the final rest. 

Speak gently, kindly, brother. 
Of all of whom you speak; 

[74] 



SPEAK KINDLY 



The world will be the brighter 
And you will help the weak. 

But those who always gossip, 
Misfortune will befall — 

The unkind words they've spoken. 
They never can recall. 

You cannot know the reason 

Why many things are done; 
So, do not speak unkindly 

Of foes, or any one. 
Do what you can, my brother. 

With heart that's kind and true, 
And others will be grateful 

For things you've tried to do. 



[75] 



GOOD BYE 



GOOD BYE 

I take my leave for distant land, 
Good bye, old friend, good bye; 

I've lived beside you many years, 
Good bye, old friend, good bye. 

I've had your help in many ways, 
I've struggled by your side, 

Enjoyed your friendship good and ti*ue, 
While you and I have tried. 

I've seen the land wherein we live. 
The wealth that it has brought 

To you and me through all these years 
That we have lived and wrought. 

Our friendship ne'er has been denied, 
I count my friends my worth; 

'Tis better, far, to have our friends 
Than all the wealth of earth. 

[76] 



GOOD BYE 



My neighbors, kind and true have been, 

And grateful should I be 
For all the blessings I've received 

While living here with thee. 

The greatest sin in this old world. 

Ingratitude, I deem. 
And should I leave without regret 

Ungrateful would it seem. 

I take my leave for distant land, 
Good bye, old friend, good bye; 

I've lived beside you many years. 
Good bye, old friend, good bye. 



[77] 



BILL WATKINS 



BILL WATKINS 

Bill Watkins is an optimist, 

As every one can see. 
He's sober and industrious 

And cheerful as can be. 

He sees the good and not the bad, 

In everything that goes; 
He says this world is good enough 

For any one he knows. 

He goes about his work with will. 

And doesn't shirk a bit, 
And what his neighbors have to say 

He doesn't care a whit. 

He bought a piece of land one day, 
With title good and clear, 

Agreed to pay upon the tract 
A goodly sum each year. 

[78] 



BILL WATKINS 



He built a house upon this land 
And worked and tugged along ; 

His neighbors said and said again 
It wasn't worth a song. 

He went to work and plowed the land, 

With horses all his own, 
He planted corn and other truck 

And then a crop was grown. 

The neighbors now did all agree 

That he was one of few; 
They merely changed their gossiping 

And said that he would do. 

He was, indeed, a thrifty man, 
Because he made things go; 

Nothing at all went wrong with him 
When the price of grain was low. 

Bill was a man, a manly man. 

He'd never fret nor stew, 
He'd pleasure and encouragement 

In everything he'd do. 

[79] 



BILL WATKINS 



He made himself a useful man 

In doing what he could, 
To help along the church and school 

In all the neighborhood. 

His task was hard 'most all the time, 
But strong in mind and health. 

He loved his work and went ahead 
And added to his wealth. 

And when he'd gathered all the wealth 

That any one should want. 
He started out around the world 

Upon a little jaunt. 

He went aboard the greatest ship 
That sailed for foreign shores, 

He sat around upon the deck 
And chatted with the bores. 

Far out upon the wintry sea 

His wife began to cry, 
'*A storm is hard upon us now, 

The waves are rolling high. 

[80] 



BILL WATKINS 



**My head is swaying to and fro, 

My heart is beating quick, 
For everything is coming up 

And I am feeling sick." 

And fierce and strong still swept the gale 

With all its might and main ; 
Bill only shouted to his wife, 

"We'll soon be home again." 

"Fear not, my dear, fear not," said he, 

"It's just a little breeze; 
The ship's as strong and safe a one 

As ever sailed the seas." 

"If I get out of this," she cried, 

"And reach my little home, 
I'll never go again to sail 

Upon the briny foam." 

Then down upon her knees she went 

And wept most bitter tears; 
She prayed the Lord to save her from 

The worst of all her fears. 
[8i] 



BILL WATKINS 



''Oh ! should I die upon this ship 

And fall asleep in Thee, 
Cast Thou me not to angry waves 

That roll upon the sea." 

"O no ! my dear, O no !" said Bill, 
"If such a thing should be, 

I'll take you to our Httle home 
And place you 'neath a tree." 

And Bill was now a favorite 
With all the folks he knew; 

He'd been around this big, old world 
And learned a thing or two. 

He visited Jerusalem 

Where Christ was crucified, 

He followed up the river Nile 
And saw that land of pride. 

He touched upon the coast en route 

Along the southern sea, 
Exploring everything in sight 

From Rome to Galilee. 

[82] 



BILL WATKINS 



He visited the frigid zone 
Where dwell the Eskimo; 

He saw the land of midnight sun 
With all its ice and snow. 



He sailed again the wintry sea 
Across the swelling foam, 

Returning to America, 

His native land and home. 

He's back upon his little farm 
As happy as you please. 

He's telling stories of his trip 
And taking life at ease. 



[83] 



MEMORIES 



MEMORIES 

Tenderly strewn are the flowers that are 

grown 
Over the graves of the dear ones we've 

known ; 
Silent they lie in the vale of the dead, 
Hallowing ground that we wantonly tread. 
Father and mother have crossed o'er the bar, 
Entered have they where the gates stand ajar; 
Sadly we miss them, as thoughts we recall 
Forever that hang on memory's wall. 

Brother and sister have passed o'er the way, 
Leaving, O leaving, forever to stay; 
Silent we weep, growing older in years 
Over our loss we have watered with tears. 
List to the voice of the fast-fading year 
And of our youth that will soon disappear; 
List to the voice that is dearest of all, 
Enchanted and hung on memory's wall. 

[84] 



MEMORIES 



Sleeping, yes, sleeping, there under the sky, 
Young and the old, where they quietly lie ; 
Sleeping and sleeping, forever they sleep, 
Under the green that we faithfully keep. 
Blossoms have faded from youth and our glee, 
Flowers no longer are blooming for me ; 
Flowers that bloom in the summer and fall, 
Reminding, they hang on memory's wall. 



[8s] 



I'VE BEEN TO SEE THE OLD HOME PLACE 



I'VE BEEN TO SEE THE OLD 
HOME PLACE 

I've been to see the old home place, I longed 

to see once more; 
I wandered o'er the hill and dale I'd wandered 

o'er before. 
The scenes were not at all the same, the scenes 

upon the farm, 
The buildings all had been removed where 

stood the house and barn. 
New buildings had replaced the old, as fine as 

seldom seen; 
'Twas not the same old home to me, the home 

upon the green. 

The orchard was depleted some, the apples 

were but few. 
From off the place they'd disappeared, the 

plums and cherries, too. 
[86] 



I'VE BEEN TO SEE THE OLD HOME PLACE 

The forest scenes were not the same, they 

looked so queer to me, 
The woodman's ax had done its work and 

scarcely left a tree. 
The worm-rail fence could not be found, the 

fence that used to be, 
The woven wire was there instead that 

stretched across the lea. 

The same old posts were in the ground, the 

posts of years ago. 
From which the gate had always hung 

a-swinging to and fro. 
The spring was there beside the hill, the water, 

just as cold 
As when I drank the sparkling draught in 

former days of old. 
One place there was, most dear to me, that 

was the fishing hole ; 
I often went on Sunday there with hook and 

line and pole. 

The mill that stood nearby the stream looked 
just the same to me 

[87] 



I'VE BEEN TO SEE THE OLD HOME PLACE 

As when I took the grist to grind in youth so 
blithe and free. 

The swimming hole I visited, 'twas 'neath the 
willow tree, 

No change at all had taken place so far as I 
could see. 

Those days were fine old days for me, I was 
a barefoot boy; 

I'd run and romp and climb and play in end- 
less ways of joy. 

I'd drive the cows beyond the hills, the place 

for them to graze, 
I'd go for them at eventide through all the 

summer days. 
We didn't have the auto then, the travel was 

more sane; 
We never dreamed there'd ever be the deadly 

aeroplane. 
These days are not the days of old, they're 

classed as great and grand; 
New-fangled ways of doing things I can't 

quite understand. 

[88] 



THE SEASONS 



THE SEASONS 

Grass is growing in the spring time, 
Beasts are feeding o'er the way; 

Lowing herds are wending slowly 
From their moorings of the day. 

Streams are flowing through the forest, 
Birds are singing here and there; 

Breezes soft are gently wafting 
Sweet with music everywhere. 

Woful heat comes in the summer, 

Vegetation grows for all; 
We are reaping, we are storing 

Through the heat and through the fall. 

In the autumn comes a sadness, 
Leaves are falling from the tree; 

It was willed by the Creator, 
Thus it was, 'twill always be. 

[89] 



THE SEASONS 



Hoary frost comes in the winter, 
Wintry blasts blow fierce and fast; 

Hearth stones, warm, are ever glowing 
Till the winter storms are past. 

Autumn, winter, spring and summer, 
Come and go as years go by; 

And with blessings they are calling 
For us all to live and try. 



[90] 



MAN'S DESTINY 



MAN'S DESTINY 

The One who tempers winds and stills the 

waves 
And watches over every living thing, 
The ruler of the universe, leaves man 
To shape his destiny, conform to the 
Divine laws and rejoice in all His works. 
To man is given right divine to live. 
To choose between the right and wrong in 

life; 
And he who thinks and acts upon his thoughts 
Within the scope of reason, arms himself 
With weapons none may challenge and with- 
stand. 
But he who grovels in iniquity, 
Defies immutability of laws 
That govern universal rights of man, 
Forgets commands of Him who doeth all 
Things well, doth shape his destiny in doom. 



[91] 



THE OLD SWIMMING HOLE 



THE OLD SWIMMING HOLE 

O many's the time when in youth I would 

stroll 
Along with boys to the old swimming hole. 
O many's the time in the blistering heat 
I'd wander away with the others to meet 
In shade of the trees and the calm of the day 
To linger awhile in some mischief and play. 
And oft were the times when at call of the roll 
We gathered to go to the old swimming hole. 

We'd gather in bunches, and in our bare feet 
Would wade through the grass that was 

blooming and sweet. 
How dear the remembrance when there I 

would stroll, 
And dear to my heart was the old swimming 

hole 
When first I would wander away to the pool 

[92] 



THE OLD SWIMMING HOLE 



With playmates that gathered at close of the 

school. 
O oft were the times when at close of the poll 
I'd go with the boys to the old swimming hole. 

The old swimming hole, I remember so well, 
'Twas down in the stream in the shades of 

the dell. 
The dearest of haunts was the old swimming 

hole; 
How oft in my youth to its bosom I stole. 
O where are the boys that I romped with in 

play? 
And where are the friends of the youth of 

my day? 
O where are the boys that were jolly and 

droll? 
They surely are gone from the old swimming 

hole. 

O shall I again clasp their hands in my own 
And feel the glad welcome that once I had 

known ? 
Or, shall I again while I'm wandering o'er 

[93] 



THE OLD SWIMMING HOLE 



This land of my pilgrimage see them no more ? 
O many^s the time in the sun and the gleam 
O'er meadows with boys I would stroll to the 

stream. 
You talk of your wealth and you talk of your 

roll 
But give me the days of the old swimming 

hole. 



t94] 



THERE IS NO DEATH 



THERE IS NO DEATH 

The leaf has fallen from the tree, 
Becomes a part of earth; 

It comes again in fairer form, 
Renewed in second birth. 

In vapor, water rises from 
The sea, descends on land; 

Returns, again, from whence it came 
And filters through the sand. 

Man gropes his weary way through life, 

He passes to the grave; 
His soul, immortal, ever lives; 

To earth, his body gave. 

And things, material, decay; 

The higher life lives on; 
There is no death, man's born again. 

His body, only, gone. 

[95] 



MORNING 



MORNING 

The first dim light of the morning 
Through mist of gray in the dawn, 

Comes forth in a garb of glory 
To welcome toilers of brawn. 

The sun in morning shines brightly 
With streams of radiant hue, 

Lights up the earth with its gladness, 
The sky with beautiful blue. 

The air is laden with fragrance 
From plants about us we see, 

The early light of the morning 
Brings forth its beauty for me. 

The youth, whose life is so gallant, 
Surmising, ventures to win. 

His faith and hope are surprising. 
When early morning comes in. 

[96] 



MORNING 



Success in life he is planning, 
Of fame and fortune he dreams; 

His life is wondrously charming 
In early morning it seems. 

Thus, he who'd win in the struggle 
Will start with rise of the sun, 

He'll shoulder care with its burden 
Before the noon has begun. 



[97] 



THE DOG 



THE DOG 

With wealth and honor and standing, 
Your friends are seeking for you; 

In sickness, poverty, sorrow, 
Your friends are never so true. 

The people, who're ready and willing 
And prone to fall at your feet, 

Are first to vex and desert you 
When with reverses you meet. 

Your reputation and honor, 

In time unguarded by you. 
May fly away in a moment 

And leave you friends that are few. 

There's one unselfish and faithful 
That counts not gold at its worth ; 

He lives and stands by his master 
Through all his troubles on earth. 

[98] 



THE DOG 



He asks for nothing that's better 
Than guard you day and at night; 

In sickness, trouble and sorrow 
For you, he's ready to fight. 

He's ever ready and willing 
To serve and be at your side, 

Defend and follow you always 
Where e'er you go or reside. 

His love is true and as constant 
As stars that twinkle above; 

He watches over his master, 
And none can question his love. 

He's absolutely unselfish, 

A friend that's never untrue; 

If you are only a pauper. 
His love is constant for you. 



[99] 



STORY OF A MOUSE 



STORY OF A MOUSE 

A little mouse said to her children at play 
"rm planning to tell you a story to-day." 

The little mice eager, and all very good, 
Surrounded their mother as little mice should. 

"Now, children, I'm glad your attention you'll 

give, 
I'll tell you all how I have managed to live. 

*'My parents were cunning and sly as could be. 
They'd scamper and scamper for brother and 
me. 

"So kind and so good to us children were they. 
They wanted us happy throughout the whole 
day. 

"Advice they would give us and hand it down 

pat, 
'Beware of the trap and the old tommy cat.' 

[lOO] 



STORY OF A MOUSE 



"I didn't think much of advice in those days, 
Nor little I cared for their silly old ways. 

"My father and mother were both very good, 
And high in esteem with their neighbors they 
stood. 

''They did what they could in the giving advice, 
Devised many ways for the little sly mice 

"In which to escape from the snares of the day 
And do as mice should while they hunted 
their prey. 

"Now, after some time I concluded they knew 
Much better than I what their children 
should do. 

"Those days were then happy for brother and 

me, 
We'd scamper all over so gaily and free. 

"O happy are mice who their parents obey. 
And happy are they as they scamper and play ; 
lioil 



I 

STORY OF A MOUSE 

"But always remember, to keep from a scrap 

You'll have to steer clear of the cat and the 

trap." 



PC 'It -^ [I02] 






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DOBBSBROS. (x- o « c <<> 

LIBRARY BeNOING -^^ , ^ -T^Nrs " ,<• ^*> 

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JUL 69 

^ ST. AUGUSTINE j. 



"^^^32084 , ^^ 



